A Schemer and a Dreamer
by Rikkamaru
Summary: The progression of the relationship between Zexion and Demyx, from beginning to end, and beginning again. Oneshot, in-canon, Zemyx.


Don't own Kingdom Hearts.

Don't own the Cover Art.

A Schemer and a Dreamer

* * *

When the being that was once Myde woke up for the first time as a Nobody, the first thing he saw was a blue-grey long-haired male. He was in a large black coat that covered everything but his pale face and slate-colored hair. He would have processed more if the memories from his previous life hadn't struck then and, with a scream of pain, the being that was once Myde curled up and grabbed his head in an attempt to will the pain away.

Myde had been raised as a musician in Agrabah. He had been fairly content with his gypsy family when the Heartless had struck, a bandit's scimitar slicing away his life. He flailed as emotions he was supposed to be feeling echoed faintly inside of him, not really there but present all the same. A shadow of horror, a quiver of fear, a tingle of anger; they were all there, and yet they weren't. He was the same person, yet not.

"Demyx," someone called. The blue-grey-haired teen, the being that was once Myde remembered, as his body instinctively slowed to the sound of the other's calm voice. "Demyx, are you alright?" There was a shadow of concern under his words, and the being once called Myde wanted to assure him that he was fine, before he realized. The other was calling him Demyx, and he was responding.

'Is that my name now?' the blonde wondered, before deciding that yes, it was, and he actually liked it. A new name for a new creature; it only makes sense.

"I'm fine," the newly named Demyx rasped back, shakily propping himself up by his arms. The other teen offered him a facsimile of a smile (which caused an instinctive surge of fake-comfort), before looking down at the clipboard in his hands.

"Welcome to the group, Number IX, Demyx." His voice was formal, but his eyes seemed soft, welcoming him in a much warmer manner.

"Thanks," Demyx said, grinning at the other as he began to stand, his eyes only for the other that had woken him from his living nightmare. "And you are?"

"I am Number VI, named Zexion." The other – Zexion, Demyx corrected – made a note on his clipboard before looking at the blonde once more.

"Zexion…" Demyx said slowly, testing the name out on his tongue. "I like it. It suits you, for some reason."

This earned him another smile, though it slipped away rather quickly after, as if the other had forgotten how long you are supposed to smile (which could quite possibly be the case), before the other beckoned to him and turned around to walk out of the room. "Come; we should tell the Leader that you've awakened."

Demyx grinned again, and hurried to Zexion's side, ready to do whatever he could for the group that had given him a new life.

* * *

The group he had been absorbed into – Organization XIII – wanted to regain their hearts and become whole again by completing something called "Kingdom Hearts". He was quite happy to help out, though a number of the members unnerved him.

Xemnas, as the leader, intimidated him too much to feel comfortable around him (especially with his creepily deep voice).

He and Xigbar didn't like one another, Xigbar annoyed easily by his easy going nature and Demyx annoyed by his eavesdropping and trigger-happy attitude (and he wouldn't tell Demyx how he lost his eye!).

He and Xaldin were neutral with one another; he sometimes tried to annoy him just to see his eyebrows twitch and Xaldin played along by trying to ignore the prankster's antics.

Vexen scared him and made him worry for his organs.

Lexaeus was far too quiet for Demyx, but he still liked the gentle giant. Plus, Zexion spent most of his time around the brunette, and so the two of them are on rather friendly terms.

Saïx was _way_ too serious, and something about him just felt…off. The way he only seemed to seek the company of their leader and Axel, for one. And the way he seemed to be gunning for the second-in-command position, the others be damned, for another. But Demyx kept his silence, and just kept a closer eye on him.

Axel also felt off, in the way a person who's almost entirely self-serving felt off. They get along from time to time, but it doesn't stop the fact that they had both disliked each other _on sight_. Zexion joked that it was their elements conflicting, but Demyx's attribute hadn't been confirmed yet, so the blonde wasn't so sure.

And then there was Zexion; the one who had been there when he was born, the one who had named him, the one that he may or may not be rather attached to. He was also a rather private individual, but Demyx enjoyed the witty remarks and comments that he would make to the others or about their missions. Zexion was his "babysitter", and he appreciated his no-nonsense demeanor. He enjoyed messing with him by acting even lazier than his memories indicated he would be, and watching Zexion huff exasperatedly around him.

This was his life now, and Demyx could easily admit that he wouldn't trade it for the world.

* * *

"So why do you carry that book with you everywhere?" Demyx asked his sitter one day, green eyes staring curiously at the tome cradled in Zexion's arms. The young man glanced back at him, aqua eyes bright with the chance to talk about the item he valued so dearly.

"The easiest answer to give you is that this is a weapon. The better answer is that this is a manifestation of my power." At Demyx's blank look, Zexion shifted and thought over his words. "As Nobodies, we are in essence created by the memories we have from when we were whole. In these memories, the powers we attained when we became Nobodies will lock onto either an object or a concept that we held in high regard, and will then bring that thing into being as a weapon or object to fight with.

"I valued knowledge as a Somebody," he stroked his book, "and thus my weapon is a lexicon. Vexen was a rather self-serving individual, so a shield actually matches him rather well. Though a little more difficult to explain, the elements we control follow the same concept, except they also match us in a way the others may not understand."

Demyx soaked in as much of the information as he could, his eyes trained on his sitter and the weapon that had moved to float serenely by its master. Demyx didn't have his weapon yet; maybe this information will be the final push to manifesting it.

Raising his hand, Demyx closed his eyes, reaching for the power that resided in his core, and felt it _twist_. And then suddenly he was holding a sitar over half his height in arms and felt the way his power flew through it like a conduit. He strummed it curiously and jumped as a stream of water appeared, aimed at Zexion's head. He yelled out a warning, but choked it back as the book moved to shield its master, absorbing the attack and shooting it back at the musician.

Demyx squawked and flailed as the water hit him, but smiled a little as Zexion's laughter washed over him, making the realization of his weapon all the better.

* * *

With his weapon now created, Demyx was given more consideration by the Leader and his second-in-command, and began taking missions.

Demyx also found out that he hates missions.

They were so _boring_! "Demyx, go kill this Heartlesss," or "Demyx, tell us more about this world without any human discovering you," or even "Demyx, how can you be so lazy? We don't have emotions!" It was always work, work, _work_! In response, Demyx has started slacking off even more, playing on his sitar at all hours in the day in an effort to annoy the others. He also did the minimum amount of work needed for each mission to get by.

Unless he was paired with Zexion, who he did his best to not seriously disappoint while on missions.

Leader seemed to figure that out as well, because they were often paired together for reconnaissance work, which the two were surprisingly good at. Demyx kept the team pace mild enough to stop Zexion from working himself to exhaustion, and Zexion's quick wit and attention to detail ensured that reconnaissance missions were very easily accomplished. If he was feeling patient, Zexion would also explain his reasoning and findings to Demyx, who absorbed everything his sitter told him with unnatural vigor.

He wanted to make the Nobody who'd introduced him to this new life proud of him, no matter what.

* * *

"Leader said something about getting subordinates? That aren't Dusks or Creepers?" Zexion looked up from his book, shifting in the chair he'd procured. They were in the library, and Demyx fidgeted a little as the books floated by around them, shelving and shifting constantly to make room for different books. Something about this place made him feel unwelcome, but he stilled under Zexion's gaze.

"Hmm…" The other male hummed distractedly, closing the book and letting it float to join the organized chaos around them. Looking at him for a moment in silent contemplation, the sixth member of the Organization snapped his fingers, and Demyx yelped as a Nobody he had never seen before materialized next to him.

It had a slim body, with its face resembling a fox and its Nobody symbol on its mask, giving it the semblance of eyes. It also had a white fox tail, but otherwise resembled a human, and was "cloaked" in a short grey dress with billowing sleeves. Its hands and feet ended in wickedly curved claws that made Demyx gulp before looking at his mentor once more.

Zexion smirked faintly, but didn't comment on water-user's reaction. Instead, he leaned backward into his chair. "This, number IX, is a Mime. It is one of my subordinates. You'll find that some people have enough will and personality that they have become a Nobody that specializes in a certain form of attack, which tends to match their superior's fighting style. Mimes are capable of mimicking the last move that they witness, and very rarely form from a human. Because of this, I only command five, all of whom care for the library under my decree."

The Mime grinned at its master's attention, and Demyx thanked his lack of a heart when he registered the size of the Nobody's fangs. It nodded once at Demyx, bowed to Zexion, and disappeared once more in a flash of darkness.

"So they guard the library?"

"Guard it, maintain it, improve it by seeking out more knowledge from different worlds; my expertise lies in retrieving knowledge and thus, so does theirs."

Demyx thought over his words silently, looking around and watching the books float throughout the library serenely, the Mimes now appearing in his vision as they flitted from shelf to shelf, adding and removing books, scrolls, and paintings as they saw fit.

"How do I call mine?" The blonde asked abruptly.

Zexion eyed him and smiled. "Push a memory of the desire to have something done to the top of your mind, and say "appear". No one else will be able to command them unless you specify it yourself, so not even the Superior has seen your subordinates yet."

Demyx nodded and closed his eyes, focusing on a memory as trying to write a piece of music, the struggle along with the overwhelming need to _complete_ it, then shouted, "appear!"

For a moment, everything stopped within the library. And then a corridor of darkness appeared, and a creature came out of it, and then another, all of them moving so smoothly they appeared to be walking to some unknown song.

"Hmm," Zexion sounded amused. "It seems fitting that the musician has dancers for subordinates."

"Dancers, huh?" Demyx could see the irony now, and let out a small laugh. "Well, that's their name now; Dancers."

The Dancers seemed happy with their new designation, if the joyful pirouettes they performed were anything to go by.

* * *

Not long after, another Nobody joined the Organization. His name was Luxord, and he was an obsessive gambler. Demyx actually didn't mind playing cards with him, though it did get frustrating when Luxord would proceed to win every game for the entire day.

It didn't escape Demyx's notice that whenever Zexion played or watched, he or Lexaeus would win.

It also surprised no one when Luxord began commanding new Nobodies called Gamblers around.

* * *

It wasn't much longer before two more members joined around the exact same time.

As much as he liked them, Demyx wouldn't trust them as far as he could throw them.

Marluxia's main flower that he controlled was _sakura petals_. Every time he saw the petals and the pinkette's scythe, the blonde typically took off in the opposite direction (and hid under Zexion's bed – much to the other's bemusement). His former sitter told him that Marluxia's scent was like monkshood and belladonna, both notoriously poisonous plants.

Larxene was…a witch, as he put it in polite company. Her use of knives and power over electricity put her and Demyx at odds with each other. The only time they got along was when they were pranking the others in the Organization (Xigbar, Xaldin, and Axel all rued the day that Larxene and Demyx reached an accord with one another). Zexion's only comment was that she smelled of devastation and tragedy, and even years on Demyx never figured out what that meant.

The water-user never saw their subordinates, and was inwardly pleased to have never caught sight of them.

The two were scary enough; no need to see what followed them.

* * *

Demyx perked up, staring at the entrance to the mission room, only to slump again as Axel entered through the door, and began strumming half-heartedly at his sitar from his position on the couch.

Zexion had gone on a solo reconnaissance mission in Agrabah, and had yet to return. It still caused a low thrum of resentment to go through the blonde as he recalled Saïx's refusal to send him along, despite Demyx's Somebody having been _raised_ in Agrabah.

Muttering darkly to himself about the damned werewolf-like Nobody, the blonde missed the sound of footsteps approaching him until a voice spoke up right behind him.

"Waiting for someone in particular, Demyx?"

The musician yelped as he toppled off the couch in response to the inquiry. Grumbling, he glared over the side of the couch only to break out into an excited grin as he registered just whose eyes he was staring death into.

"Zexion!" he pounced at the other Nobody, not completely surprised when he got nothing but air as Zexion traded himself with an illusion. Demyx landed with an "oomph", but paid it no mind as he swung around and tackled the illusionist again. "Why did you have to take so long?!" the blonde whined, letting go after making sure that the slate-haired Nobody was, in fact, actually there.

Zexion shifted in an imitation of discomfort before coughing and reaching into a small portal of darkness that he formed near his hand. "I was looking for something, since you've been with the organization for about quite some time now."

"Oh?" Demyx queried, a mixture of excitement and apprehension sifting through his gut. "Did you manage to find it?"

Zexion nodded silently, before pressing a sheaf of papers into Demyx's chest and disappearing quickly. The sitarist had righted the papers out of habit and, with the other Nobody gone, took a look at them with a curious eye.

It was sheet music for the sitar, and not just Agrabah, but from many of the other worlds that lay waiting outside.

Demyx read through the music, wondering if, had he had emotions, he would have fallen in love with Zexion by now.

* * *

Not long after, a new face joined the group.

His name was Roxas, and just the sound of it brought a sense of foreboding to Demyx.

The kid seemed gentle enough; for all that he didn't even have any of his memories. Zexion had helped the kid learn about the various levels of completion for each mission, and said he smelled of light and nostalgia (whatever that meant).

To make the kid's resume even worse in Demyx's book, he seemed to be rather close to Axel. Zexion didn't seem surprised by that, citing a story about how an elephant calf could lose its herd for years and recognize its mother on sight when they meet once more.

Demyx had no idea what that had to do with things.

* * *

"Ah, it's so peaceful without the loudmouths around." Demyx sighed in relief, trying to ignore the tug he felt in his chest.

"If only they had all left," Xigbar added, eyeing the blonde's sitar distastefully.

"As if I'd willingly go on such a long mission with that witch," Demyx flapped his hand dismissively, propping his feet up on the table in front of him.

"What's going on?" A voice asked behind them, and the water manipulator turned to see that Roxas had entered the room, and was now shifting nervously under their stares. It was obvious that he felt uncomfortable without Axel there to put him at ease, but Demyx didn't let that affect his tone as he grinned at the other blonde.

"About half of the Organization was sent out to Castle Oblivion today; they headed out earlier." Demyx searched the other's face, and was unsurprised to see that Roxas was already made aware of the mission, most likely by Axel. Demyx himself had been told by Zexion prior to the illusionist's departure, and had found no hesitation in telling his former sitter his concerns about Axel and Saïx, Marluxia and Larxene already an understanding between them. Zexion assured him that Lexaeus and Vexen would be with him, but his parting words were held close to Demyx's absent heart.

"_Hold your suspicions to yourself; nurture them, but keep them cloaked in the shadows when you speak with the suspect. Their awareness of your wariness will only harm you. And when the time is right, make it your sword and strike them down."_

Not even a week later, Demyx was both loving and loathing his lack of participation in the Castle Oblivion mission. The entire group was _terminated_. Everyone that left was dead.

Everyone except Axel.

Demyx wanted to destroy something (he typically took it out on the Assassin Nobodies). How dare that pyromaniac _bastard_! That was Demyx's family he just slaughtered! Sure they may not have emotions, and two of them were traitors, but the Organization was all any of them had left!

At first, Demyx had been reluctantly accepting of the eighth member's innocence, but that changed when he went down to the library (the closest thing to mourning as he could reach). A Mime greeted him there, its masked face lowered to the ground in its own reenactment of grief. He followed it to the heart of the unusually still library, and was greeted to the sight of the other four Mimes surrounding a floating book; Zexion's lexicon.

The lexicon was open, and on its last page was, _"And so, by the Flurry's hand, did the Replica strike down the Master Bookkeeper."_

The room was silent, before geysers of water erupted all around Demyx.

In his fury the Dancers were given strict orders: Do everything in their power to kill Number VIII, _without_ giving away that they were targeting him. For all that the ninth member wanted to strike down the traitorous snake where he stood, Zexion's words rang clearly in his mind.

_Hold your suspicions to yourself; nurture them, but keep them cloaked in the shadows when you speak with the suspect._

Demyx would do exactly that, and celebrate the day that Axel's time came to an end; by his hand, preferably.

* * *

This couldn't be happening. The Organization was just…falling apart, and Demyx didn't know what to do anymore.

Roxas had gone rogue.

Everything that the Organization had worked for, all their time and effort, _wasted_ because of a kid going through an existential crisis. All of his hopes and dreams, all of _Zexion's_ hopes and dreams, ruined by the Key of Destiny.

Demyx hated Keybladers.

It was Sora who killed off a fourth of their faction, it was Riku who (technically) killed off another fourth, one of them being Zexion, and it was Roxas who spat in the face of their Organization's beliefs, all for the sake of his identity crisis. Demyx hated them all.

"Dancers!" he called out, and watched as his subordinates manifested before his very eyes. His voice had lost its shadow of his former life, remaining as hard and unwavering as a true Nobody. "If you ever come across a Keyblade wielder of any type, whether they be human or Nobody…kill them. Even if I die, never stop in your quest to rid the world of them, unless I say otherwise."

The Dancers nodded, and disappeared into the Corridors or Darkness to hunt down any Keyblader they came across.

* * *

"Silence, traitor." Demyx let his voice lose all emotion, but couldn't help the pleasant feeling that glowed when he took in Sora confused and slightly hurt face. They really did _not_ send the right guy for this. Especially considering that his "use of force" will probably end with the brat's death.

Strumming his sitar, the Melodious Nocturne created entities of water in the multitudes, all of them aiming to strike Sora/Roxas down. His confidence began to falter as the child cut through all of the creatures with his Keyblade, only pausing to readjust his grip before flinging himself at the Organization member.

The battle was semi-fierce, but rather one-sided, and it wasn't long before the brunette got a good hit on the Nobody, the Keyblade rejecting his existence like every other creature in every other world.

"No way!" Demyx screamed, fighting against the darkness that was reaching for him. His last thought was, 'I'm sorry I failed, Zexion.'

And then it all went dark.

* * *

Myde groaned and scrunched his eyes, trying to fight off the incoming sunlight. His hands balled up without thought, and the blonde tensed as he registered the sand beneath his palms. Eyes opening slowly, Myde glanced around; he was lying in the desert only a little ways off from Agrabah.

He was human again.

Curious, he stretched out a hand. His sitar appeared almost instantly, making him sigh in relief. So it wasn't all a dream. This was further proven when Myde was hit with all of the memories from his birth as Demyx to his death, but this time with emotions accompanying them. And they all helped prove one thing:

He was in love with Zexion.

Myde suddenly stopped, hardly daring to breath. Was Zexion alive too? Did he return to being a Somebody? Myde didn't know, and wasn't sure how to find out.

So he would stay here, in the hopes that Zexion would find him.

It was all he could do at this point.

* * *

It didn't take long for Zexion to find him, and for that Myde was relieved.

While being in his home world left a warm glow in his chest, it just didn't feel like home anymore. Home was white and black castles with rooms that could span Agrabah itself. Home was arguments and subordinates and sitting on the couch playing his sitar. Home was Xigbar and Xaldin, Lexeaus and Vexen.

Home was wherever Zexion was.

His quiet, somewhat sad thoughts were interrupted by the opening of a Corridor of Darkness only a few feet to his right. Jumping up, Myde fired a jet of water into it out of surprise, and then spluttered as it was rebounded back and knocked him down. Then a familiar laugh started up, and Myde paused in silent surprise for a few seconds before joining in himself, joy and relief the two emotions at the forefront of his mind.

"It's been a while, Demyx." Zexion greeted, his lexicon floating gentling beside him.

"I go by Myde these days, Zexion," The blonde retorted with a grin, and watch on in surprise as his once mentor smiled back easily.

"And I answer to Ienzo…Myde." It was clear Zexion – Ienzo – was testing Myde's name out, but that did nothing to weaken Myde's Cheshire-like grin.

"So…we going home?" the sitarist bounced on his feet, ready to leave everything behind once again for the young man standing across from him.

"Not to HQ, at least not yet; we need to see what's going on, why we came back, and right now Radiant Garden is the best for that. But maybe…one day, we can go back home."

Myde took this easily enough, and followed Ienzo into the darkness without a single look back.

Everything he wanted was right in front of him.

* * *

So, this was an attempt to see how Zemyx could happen in canon, with some liberal rights taken (if that's the right phrase). I hope you liked it.

Please review.

Ja ne!


End file.
